For long , I have not visited the house
Which stands atop the Daltic Hill
And now , it houses rats and mouse
And spiders on its window sills
This house , I remember , at one time
Was like a heaven from a distance stime
Lord MC kleen , was the master's name
Drenced in bouse and birds of game
This house stood there on the way
When I went to school in my childhood days
They all that day, went to the Elevn fair
But , only I remained alone standing there
Out side my class's window pane
I searched for the house time and again.
Its very glimpse made the mind serene Its red brick walls and the garden green One cold and rainy December night
Mc Kleen and his spouse had a terrible fight
Lady Mc Kleen saw the next day never
And , then the house was locked forever
Twenty years now down the line
It houses cobwebs and unwanted vines
It ocassionally house's tired travellers
Or vagabonds and drunken revellers
All said and done of incidents past
As now I enter The Kingdom Of Dust
My shadow falls on the wooden floor
As I walk past the grassy leafy door
In its interiors of dust and silent ghosts
I find myself as the lonely mortal host
The cold, dark and empty halls
The oiled pigmented wooden walls
Their silence shouts of hate and lust
As I tend to explore The Kingdom Rust
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